


Asunder

by sugargroupie



Category: Farscape
Genre: Angst, Canon Het Relationship, Episode Related, F/M, Ficlet, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-10
Updated: 2006-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-08 08:50:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugargroupie/pseuds/sugargroupie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She smelled sickly sweet, chased with bitter to the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Asunder

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for **gigerisgod**, finally completing the meme requests. Beta-free, with spoilers up to _Promises_.

She smelled sickly sweet, chased with bitter to the end.

Chiana turned the limp hand palm-up and curled her own grey fingers around it. She pressed a kiss to the center and licked the remains of stale sweat from her lips; swallowed the stench of death down her throat.

Aeryn had not awakened in five days. After staring at Crichton until it seemed she'd gotten her fill of him, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Chiana had seen death before; had caused it more than a few times, but she'd never felt this expectancy before, this interminable wait.

Those words, _the end_, that wasn't right. Chiana shook her head and placed Aeryn's hand back on the bed. Aeryn was suspended between the living and the dead -- being tugged between one Crichton and the other. Just thinking about it was too much and Chiana looked away.

Crichton lay at Aeryn's back, his arm thrown loosely around her waist. They looked like they were sleeping, but Crichton hadn't slept in days and she knew he contributed to the smell in this room just as much as Aeryn did.

She watched as his lashes fluttered before he opened his eyes, sunken and red staring back at her. "Cri–" she tried, but her throat was suddenly dry. She didn't want to be the one to do this.

Chiana held out her hand instead, hoping he would meet her halfway, let her anchor him for a change. He desperately clung to Aeryn.

"Hey, Crichton," she said shakily, relieved to have found her voice.

"What about now?" he asked; his voice harsh, cutting into her skin. "Is she getting better?"

Chiana pretended he acknowledged her by name when he spoke to her. _What about now, Pip?_

And she wanted to respond: _you know better than that, Old Man. You've always hated being lied to so don't start lying to yourself._ But he wouldn't listen –

"No change," she whispered and took a step back from the bed. The smell caught in her throat; death was coming back up.

Crichton nodded and lay his head back down, dug his nose in Aeryn's hair. Chiana wondered if he was trying to inhale whatever remained of Aeryn Sun. "Just a little longer Chi, ok? Just a little while longer."

– Just like he wasn't listening now.

He closed his eyes and Chiana turned to leave. Aeryn wasn't really dead, she told herself. They could give him a few more arns to say goodbye.

**


End file.
